Heavy Lies the Crown
by Anjelle
Summary: Four kingdoms are stuck in a perpetual war. If they make their move, the joker will make his, and so they've been stuck like this for centuries. Sabo decides he's had enough, that he'll end it, even if the other three kings become casualties to bring about that end. But when he kills the first, Ace, he doesn't expect to be stuck with him until his goal is met-if his sanity lasts.
1. Prologue

**So this here is just a short prologue for this new story, which should be really fun later on. I can't fit this scene into the first chapter so I decided to put it here as the prologue. I'll explain further when I post the first chapter (after I finish the Divide and Immortality updates) so for now all you need to know is that the world is based on a deck of cards and the 4 suits/factions/kingdoms are at war. But... more on that when the story ACTUALLY begins.**

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><p>The first to go was his top hat. White gloves stood stark against the charcoal dye of the hat and he stared long and hard. He really liked that hat, so it was a pity when he placed it on the rack and stepped further inside, resigning to the fact that he couldn't bring it along.<p>

Royal purple walls were there to great him, every colour brilliantly vibrant, every surface polished until it shined. Gold trim accented everything within, giving the room just a little brighter an appearance, and he smiled as he headed over to the bed.

First to go was his suit jacket. It unbuttoned easily enough, sliding off his shoulders and away from his form to reveal a black dress shirt. It hit the plush surface of the mattress with a soft noise and he took a moment to eye the rich fabrics now so carelessly tossed aside, the blues and yellows somewhat dimmed by the lightly-coloured sheets now surrounding them. He sighed.

As he undid the white cravat around his neck he sauntered over to the full-length mirror against the wall, dull eyes boring into his own reflection as the white cloth was dropped and left forgotten on the floor by his feet. He leaned to the side and reached for a simple grey tie, sliding it around his neck and beneath the collar of his shirt. But before he tied it, the black collar was pulled away to reveal an equally dark diamond tattoo on the side of his neck. He watched as its shape morphed and stretched until what remained was the neat, carefully constructed shape of a spade—simple, yet believable.

The blond pulled on a plain grey vest, straightening it onto his form before doing up the buttons on the front and looking himself over with analyzing eyes. It looked alright... basic, plain, easy to miss. What else, though…

Ah, right. The gloves. But he didn't have black gloves. What a bother…

Taking a deep, calm breath, he eyed the material over his hands, never blinking as he focused. Black splotches of ink burst onto the clean, pure silk of his glove, spreading out across the surface and connecting until none of the original shade was left. He smiled again, letting out a satisfied hum as he glanced back into the mirror's surface—at his face. What to do about that…

Green eyes became blue as he started to shift. He could feel the bones in his face changing, reconstructing as his pallid-white skin tanned and blond strands darkened into a near-black brown.

The change settled and the strange, tingly feeling of his body being altered dissipated, leaving him to look over the results of his efforts with interest and amusement. It was quite convincing, the way his facial structure became so very different from what it really looked like. But one last…

Placing a hand over his chest, he concentrated. When he pulled away he found a crest embroidered across the front, and his mouth stretched into a grin.

His deception complete, the game could finally commence.

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><p><strong>Adieu~<strong>


	2. Act I: Those Who Rule

**Update is here, lovelies! A lot sooner than expected, too. So this is the actual first chapter, and you should be able to tell after reading it why I put that one scene as a prologue. Anyways, I'll briefly explain a few things... This stemmed from a drawing mah-blackberreh was working on, and she and I expanded on it and eventually I kinda rambled out half a plot and she encouraged it... *glares at her* But yeah, so I started writing a story based off some stuff I've been doing with her, like art and roleplays, so she's gonna be helping make this, even if I'm writing it. This first chapter will answer some questions, and... probably leave you with more. But hey, first chapter, right?**

**Enjoy~**

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><p>In the dead of night the palace lit up the sky. It wasn't just the usual torchlight—it <em>glowed<em>. Every corner of the kingdom, everywhere within the great wall, the brilliant shine would reach, almost like a beacon to those wandering about and without hope. Rich golds and blindingly white walls were a sight every citizen knew—a comfort even in times of war, when the world seemed to collapse around them.

For the spade king, it was home—just an everyday part of life. Within reach. Nothing special. And on nights like those, it became ordinary for everyone else, too.

One thing he never could understand about his position was the incessant need to socialize. Yeah, keeping up appearances and relationships was important and all, he supposed, but… but did they _really_ need to host parties every bloody week?

From the inner balcony he watched the currents of people shift and mingle in the ballroom below. He leaned heavily on the rail, his chin resting in his palm, scowl deep and unending. There wasn't a _point_ to all of it, really… but he'd let his kingdom have its fun. Why the hell not? It was a chance to escape, to unwind…

To forget about the war.

He watched as the 'queen' spoke with some… ah, he didn't fucking know. Some guy who was invited—he didn't pay the guest list more than a quick glance-over. No, the messy stuff was left to his queen—Marco. Yeah, some queen, alright. He'd never let the guy live down that title, no matter _how_ much time passed.

The war was unending. It wasn't that no side could win; that wasn't true at all. Four kingdoms, in one battle? One was bound to pull ahead at some point. Only, if they did… they'd be wiped out. Upsetting the 'balance' would land the winning kingdom far worse a fate. So they were stuck in a perpetual struggle—one that was now spanning its second century with no end in sight. It was… stressful. Unnerving.

The band started up a new song, a slow and even tempo, and the king watched as most of his guests left the dance floor, couples now taking it over, facing one another and waiting to step into the rhythm.

His eyes scrolled away from the dancers and he smirked, watching as Thatch drunkenly flirted over by the food. That guy would never learn.

The king glanced at the clock, pleased to see that the night had officially stretched into the small hours of the morn, and that soon he would be able to return to his chambers and get a little rest. He'd been up… well, a very long time. Most of it he was stuck on the throne, listening to his people's plights and handing out commands—rather uneventful, but perhaps that was a good thing. And in the morning he could… well, he could sleep in. For once. It'd be a nice change of pace.

And then, one week from now, things would start to change.

They were signing a treaty with the kingdom of clubs.

"Sire?" a voice called from behind and he turned, met with the dark-haired youth who'd been serving him the past few hours. Marco had just hired him, he supposed, as the face was unfamiliar. "Is there anything you require?"

"Hm?" He raised an eyebrow. Most servants knew to just leave him be. "Nah, I'm fine."

"You're sure?"

"Yep," he assured, offering a grateful smile.

The boy bowed low and on his neck, beneath the collar of his shirt, the king caught a glimpse of a small tattoo—a black spade. Simple, but it got the point across, he supposed. And then he was gone, grabbing a tray of refreshments and carrying it about the room.

And he was back to watching people. Like a creep. Lovely.

"Ace," called someone far more familiar, his tone one of complete boredom.

The sound had him grinning. "Greetings, Majesty," he mocked.

Marco, for his part, simply rolled his eyes at the obvious tease. He didn't even properly address it. But, well, he was used to it by now. "What are you doing up here? There are people waiting to speak with you, yoi."

At that Ace groaned, hunching over the rail to glare at his guests. "Can I just… not?"

"Ace—"

"But _Marco_," he whined, turning to face a tall blond. "I'm tired, damn it."

"You're the king."

"I'm still _human_, thanks."

Marco heaved a sigh, glancing at the clock to his right with a look of clear contemplation, and Ace was hopeful—because he only ever considered giving in if he wasn't too against it in the first place. "…Alright. The event is ending soon anyway, so I'll tell everyone you turned in early. But _try_ not to sleep all day, yoi."

The king grinned, clapping his brother on the shoulder. "Will do!"

"Promise?"

"Promise!"

Marco smiled. "Go, then. I'll see you in the morning."

"Yep, g'night."

"Good night, Ace."

Waving to the servant from earlier and beckoning him over, the spade king spun on his heel and down the hall behind the balcony, rounding a few corners and striding across narrow corridors until stumbling upon a set of large, extravagant doors carved with the royal family's crest. He looked back and, sure enough, the servant had followed closely behind, his formal stance never breaking even as the king himself started to slouch.

Flinging open one of the doors, he gestured the boy to follow, stepping into his private suite. Ace didn't waste any time in shrugging off his suit jacket and hat, tossing them carelessly onto the large bed in the corner of the room and expecting his servant to take care of the mess.

The first thing he did afterwards was push open the curtains to the large window at the back of the room and stare outside with a pleased grin. It felt nice to be alone—well, mostly alone, if he ignored the servant.

The one thing he _didn't_ like was how much light pollution there was. From there, he couldn't see the stars, causing his expression to fall a little. Still, the dark velvets of the midnight sky were nice, even without the 'oh so lovely' view of its usual shining accents splayed across it.

He leaned on the sill, pressing all of his weight onto it as his gaze fell upon the expanse of his kingdom. "What d'ya think?" he questioned, his voice soft as his eyes darted about the view. "'S nice, isn't it? Best view in the kingdom."

"Lovely," came the servant's prompt reply. Ace could hear him moving about the room, tidying a few things up, as were his duties, before making his approach. "I would expect nothing less of the royal chamber."

Ace snorted. What an annoyingly proper way he spoke—so… unnecessarily refined. "Suppose so. This was actually Marc's room before, but I kinda pestered him for it."

"Oh?"

He grinned as he reminisced, shifting his weight and letting out a soft, contended sigh. "We were given our titles really young, y'know? They start namin' them off as soon as they figure out who inherited which talent. Mine… I kinda made the dining hall blow up when I was seven."

The servant's steps broke in rhythm, and he didn't have to turn around to know what expression he wore. "An _explosion_? That… certainly is impressive."

A rise of laughter filled the silence, and Ace nodded, watching drawn carriages begin to depart the palace grounds as hoards of people flooded the entrances. "They thought so, too. Suddenly I was being told _I_ was gonna be king. I was the short-tempered idiot of the family, I couldn't—but, well, I _did._ The room they gave me had no windows, though. Was fucking creepy, 'cause it was isolated at the top of the tower. And Marc, he had this nice, big window…"

"What a kind sibling."

The grin stretched, and he couldn't agree more. "Yeah, he—"

He choked on his words.

White-hot pain shot through his back and he grunted, eyes doubling in size as he felt the sharp, slim end of a blade cut through his insides. It went deeper, tore through more flesh, and he could feel the fabric of his shirt stick to his skin with a warm wetness as blood seeped downward and soaked it.

The weapon didn't linger; it was pulled just as quickly and jabbed into his back again, and before it could be done a third time Ace forced his body to turn, the blade sliding back out as he faced his attacker and snarled, trying to ignore the way his legs shook.

Those wounds were deep. He could feel it.

The servant smiled back. "Hello, your Highness."

_That fucking—_

One arm wrapped around himself, the spade king ignored his pain and lunged forward, his hand igniting in a sudden burst of orange and yellow flames. Without giving the other a chance to react, he slammed his fist into the attacker's cheek and relished in his scream as he doubled over, the fire slowly spreading across his face.

And he knew that so long as he lived, those flames would never go out.

Ace dropped to his knees as he watched the other try and fail to put out the blazing inferno, determined not to close his eyes until the threat was down and out—because bleeding as he was, things were _not_ looking good. And as he stared his jaw went slack. And he was starting to see just what the _hell_ was going on.

The colours seemed to melt off the servant. Dark hair was the first to go under the burning of the flames, falling off his body like thick, murky ink and seeming to just vanish as it revealed blond strands. The tan of the skin followed, becoming pale, and the tattoo on his neck—

A diamond. A fucking _diamond_.

No. No, this couldn't—this _wasn't_—

The fire had spread onto his torso and arm, and in an attempt to stop the burning the assailant threw off his suit jacket and tie, the articles burning until not even ash remained—as expected of the spade's talent of destruction. But it had already reached his shirt and skin, and through a burned hole in the sleeve Ace caught a glimpse of the intricate pattern of a large tattoo—and a familiar family crest.

_The king of diamonds._

"Y-you fucking _bastard_…"

The blond was clearly in pain as he straightened, accepting that he couldn't stop his body from burning, and it was clear from the agony on his face that even when he grinned, brushed off how much he hurt, that he _wasn't_ okay. And that was _satisfying._

But Ace couldn't breathe. His vision had started fading rapidly, and numbness spread throughout his body—a very clear, very _terrifying _truth that he was reluctant to admit.

Ace was dying. He… he knew that. He knew that he was going to bleed out—that the hope of being saved was already long gone and _far_ out of his reach. Even if he called for help now, it wouldn't make a difference. But he knew that blond bastard was there with him, still burning and in just as much goddamn pain.

But not for long. The destruction would continue until there was nothing left of his killer.

Not even ashes. And yet still there was that damn_ grin_. It was unnerving—like he knew this was going to happen, like he didn't care. And maybe he didn't…

Or maybe he knew he wouldn't die.

No matter—he'd still gotten him back good. If he managed to survive then he'd be forever scarred, and every man and woman from every kingdom would recognized it—would know the cause—and know what he had done.

The diamond king fought through the pain and crouched down beside Ace, chuckling triumphantly even as it caused him to cough, and the victim was sure the blond's lungs were burned. Pushing Ace to the ground and holding the blade to his neck, that eerie grin stretched.

"Suppose I should bid you 'adieu', your Highness. Much thanks for the talent you're about to give me."

Ace's eyes widened. _Give?_ "W-what—"

He pulled back his arm and swung down, tearing through the spade king's flesh with the blade—

And he felt himself die.

It was fast. He didn't feel much of the pain, his body already so numb. All he felt was the urge to scream and being unable to, and then—and then it _ended_ and there was _nothing_.

He wasn't bitter. There was no fear of the unknown, no lingering hatred for his murderer, even as those were the emotions most prominent right before he'd slipped away. All that really remained was the image of that man _burning_, and triumph in the knowledge that even if the blond managed to stop the blaze, he'd have to live with the scars it would leave behind.

And be reminded of what he'd done whenever he looked in the mirror.

But something was nagging at him. Even then, in death, some semblance of thought remained, and it didn't feel like a lacking existence but—but more like he just wasn't… really all there. Or maybe it was that he _was_ there, but there was nothing around him.

The change was short—instant. He was torn away from that state of nothingness and suddenly he could _see_ again. But… no, that wasn't right. He was _dead_ and—

And he was staring at his own lifeless corpse.

To say that Portgas D. Ace was scared was an understatement, because in that moment he watched as his body lifted a gloved hand—and he hadn't been _wearing_ gloves, _never_ wore gloves—and suddenly his own corpse was catching fire. And he watched, mortified and unable to look away, because _he had no control_—

"Thank you again, Ace of Spades."

That voice—he _knew_ that voice. And he'd felt the vibration in his throat as the words were said, but they in no way belonged to him.

The fire spread, blazing to life across the dead king's body, burning relentlessly until there was nothing left—not even ash. As his eyes continued staring at it, he released… that was his talent—his power, his 'destruction'. But… that wasn't his body, even if he was somehow in it, and…

The diamond king. King… something. God, the man had _killed_ him yet he couldn't even remember the bastard's name… He'd heard it before, when dealing with that kingdom… 'S' something. Simon? Syble? Something…

_Sabo._

That was _his _voice. _Sabo's_ voice.

He heard noises, but they weren't from the outside world. Instead they were the faint, faded and crumbled words and winds from memories, a flood of them bombarding his mind. None were his own, and he couldn't focus well enough to really _see_ them, and it was just complete, organized chaos—an utter contradiction, indescribable in any other way.

The next sense to return was touch—feeling—and _fuck_ did it hurt. It was an agony unfamiliar to him, so horribly strong that it momentarily clouded all thought. Some parts didn't hurt—pockets of skin where the nerves had started to die—but from there it had spread out.

Ace started to realize… that hurting wasn't his own. It was from fire, and he couldn't be burned—because of his talent.

The body was back to moving against his will, gathering the last of the evidence of the crime, tidying the area to remove signs of their brief exchange.

He was in his killer's body. Immobile, completely useless, yet there. How the _fuck_?

For a while the spade king remained disoriented and confused, the body carrying on and slipping out of the palace—_somehow_ managing to go unnoticed, and he didn't know _how_ because, though no longer on fire, Sabo was still burned and bloodied—

That ability—his _talent_. Just what was it? Bloody hell, why had he never paid attention to what Marco said? Never had he regretted his carelessness more than that moment. It was… it involved change, obviously…

_Deception._ Fitting as fuck name for it, too, the bastard…

_'__Ah, so lovely how everything falls in line.'_

The words startled Ace. Just like the memories, they were resounding in his head. They were… his killer's thoughts. _Fuck._

The next hour of travel time was spent simply carrying on like that, with no control, as he tried to grasp just what had happened to him. Cleaning up after his own murder, fleeing a crime scene where he was the victim… the whole thing was surreal.

After a long carriage ride across the expanse between kingdoms, Ace found his eyes now settling on the diamond palace—within its walls, beyond its defenses.

At his enemy's heart. And _damn_ would that be tempting if he could move.

He could hear it again—those thoughts. They were sporadic, and he doubt he was hearing everything, but there were there—insightful. Sabo was hurting. He could feel that the expression their body wore was one of calmness, but in his head the blond was pained to the brink of incoherent thought, and it wasn't until they'd entered an expansive, solitary room with purple walls and gold accents that he felt the mask of indifference melt away along with whatever disguise he'd put himself in during his escape.

_"__Serves you fucking right, you goddamn arsehole."_

The blond's muscles tensed, and Ace felt the surprise in his thoughts. Wait… did—did that mean he was heard?

"…Oh no."

So he _had_ heard it. They could… talk, then? Sort of? But Sabo's next thoughts were of brushing him off—that he was _imagining _it, of all things—and simply set about looking for his medical supplies so he could treat his burns. Why he didn't get a doctor, Ace hadn't the faintest…

_"__Far from imagining things, you wanker,"_ he said snidely, his own voice reverberating back to him. Fuck that was strange. So somehow… Sabo had taken his power. And along with the power… _"Seems that, as you absorbed my talent, you absorbed _me_ along with it. Isn't that wonderful?"_

He didn't even care that he was being a sarcastic little shit.

The body froze. "…Oh _god_ no. Bloody hell!"

Sabo's thoughts… He knew he'd have consequences to deal with. He knew there would be side-effects. He just didn't think they would be that _bad_. But he sighed and shrugged it off, believing that it was worth it now that he had 'destruction'. He could put up with it.

Ace _really_ hated that man.

But then Sabo looked in the mirror, and it wasn't himself reflected back.

It was Ace.

He touched the skin of his cheek, moving the pads of his fingers across his face, his nose, and the structure didn't match up with the reflection. It was _still_ the body of the diamond king. But what he saw was his victim staring back.

"Oh _come on_!"

Ace grinned—er, well, he _thought_ he grinned. It felt like he grinned. Served the bastard right. _"Didn't really think this through, did you? Murdering me. Stealing and absorbing what is essentially my soul. Or was it that you didn't picture the consequences?"_

Sabo ran a frustrated hand through his hair and closed his eyes, shielding his sight from the incorrect face looking back at him. "More to the point, I didn't _care_. I knew it would be bad; my talent comes with risks," he stated. "But no matter—it is still worthwhile if I can tip the balance in my favor."

'In his favor,' huh? That… made Ace feel uneasy. Just what—why did he _do this_? 'Deception' must have allowed him to absorb the talents of others, but... why did he need them? _Why did I have to die?_

_"__What do you mean?"_

"With no ruler, the kingdom of spades will fall. And then the rest." Sabo opened his eyes with a pout—estrange on the one reflected back at him. "Ah, but what a heavy price to pay, being unable to see my _glorious_ face when I look in the mirror."

Fucking great—he was a narcissist.

Ace focused, trying to see if… maybe there was more he could do. He'd seen memories before—maybe he could more actively view them…

_"__You did this to ensure the destruction of my kingdom—but _why_?"_

Fuck, he was sure he could look, but he didn't know _how_ and it only frustrated him more. He was confused and stressed and the other king's words made him so goddamn _angry_ but he couldn't _do anything_ about it. He wanted to set more of the bastard's skin on fire—wanted to burn him until all that remained was a fucking memory.

Sabo frowned, and that looked far less out of place on his reflection. "Because, your _Magesty_, I feel it is about time we get things done around here, don't you?" Ace felt it when their mouth stretched into a grin—that same, sickening grin he saw right before his death. "We've been kept as perfect little puppets long enough. I'll take the spade's lands, then the clover, then the heart's… _all_ of the kings' talents. And then I will kill the joker."

Kill the… but—that wasn't possible. He kept watch over them for a _reason_—because he _could not be beat_. And this jackass wanted to take him out?

Grabbing the medical kit, Sabo started treating his the scars on his face, still visible in the mirror despite it being Ace's physique that they saw—and it looked so _wrong _to see himself with those scars, scars from his own flames. The treatment, however, was no more than first-aid, and with wounds like those he really should have sought immediate medical attention. Why hadn't he? "The overseers will fall soon after. And I will reside above it all."

_"__You—"_ He couldn't believe what he was hearing, and panic started to rise from within him—present but not felt, affecting yet unseen, and he wasn't sure how much of living like that he would be able to bear. _"The peace treaty with the clubs—it was about to be finalized! There would have _peace_, we would have been so _close_ and then you—you fucking _killed _me because you wanted to come out on top?"_

His anger flared with renewed vigor, and he wanted no more than to strangle that body's neck, consequences be damned.

To his dismay, the body's owner went undisturbed as he moved onto the other burns before rifling through the cupboards, likely for pain medication, the bandages left forgotten on the counter. "There's really nothing you can do about it, my dear."

He popped two pills in his mouth and the grin returned as he swallowed them. "You and I both know that your little treaty wouldn't have lasted. Everyone is after one thing, _Sire_. We'll all do what we can to win. That's how this game works."

…Game? Did—did he just call the war a _game_?

Fuck, fuck, _fuck_! Without the treaty being signed, without him being there—

It… couldn't end like that. It couldn't. Because if it did…

_"__The king of hearts will make his move. Fuck, _fuck it all_, you stupid son of a fucking _whore_!"_

"That louse?" Sabo asked with a raised eyebrow, pushing off the counter and spinning on his heel back into the bedroom of dark purples and golds, taking that moment to get changed. "Worry not about him. He's a rather lax fellow—has remained more or less inactive during this whole thing. He won't find out right away. That being said, _stop screaming in my head_."

_"Oh no, _oh no_, I am _not_ going to be silent,"_ the spade king hissed. Shouting was all he had. There was nothing else he could do, so if annoying the shit out of his _killer_ was his only pastime then he would fucking _indulge_.

_"Everything I've been working for—everything I've accomplished—it's all been for _nothing_ because of you. So no, I will _not_ stop screaming in your head. In fact, it's not entirely _your_ head anymore, is it? I'm here, and I can't leave, so I'm going to be as loud as I bloody want!"_

Sabo rolled his eyes as he gently lowered his aching body onto the plush surface of the bed, lying on his back to avoid disturbing his burns and staring at the ceiling. "As you wish. That's the reason I chose to go after you first, by the way; you were too loud to ignore, and it made you an easy target."

_"'__Easy target' my arse," _Ace snarled, trying everything he could to try to gain some sort of control. Being in another's body, having his actions decided for him, was going to drive him mad. There had to be more to it. _"You stabbed me in the back. Took me by surprise. Attacks like that are cowardly—it's _pathetic_."_

The fact that he couldn't seem to get a rise out of the man bothered him even more as Sabo replied calmly, "Say what you will, but you're now dead and I have your talent." As if to further mock him, the blond raised a hand to his line of sight, and Ace could feel that all-familiar surge of power and heat as a mesmerizing swirl of fire burst to life on his skin. That was… undoubtedly the talent of the spade king—the one that decided the ruler of the kingdom generation after generation. And he couldn't deny it.

His hand flopped back onto the mattress, and he let out a sigh. "Do you _know_ what the talent of deception actually is? It was meant for things like this, and I am certainly well-suited to it."

Yeah, no doubt about that. He was fucking _scum_, and Ace was starting to see just why the people of the diamond king's lands were so widely disliked.

_"__And you're planning on taking out the other kings…"_ He snorted. "_You're gonna die. The king of hearts—no one's ever been able to get close to him, and clubs? Have you even _met _Luffy?"_

Sabo chuckled tiredly, and Ace could feel a… shift, of sorts, in his presence. He could feel that his host was starting to nod off, but Ace, himself, felt fine. So… what did that mean for him? Would he… sleep while Sabo did, or would he be forced to lie there, still, until morning came?

"You're speaking to the man whose literal existence revolves around deception. Do you _really _think I can't manage? We all have weaknesses—it is simply a matter of knowing which ones to exploit." He yawned, and his eyes fluttered shut. All Ace could see was darkness—that familiar black that pulled him in the moment he'd lost his life.

The spade king knew instantly when the other was asleep. He felt a release of pressure—like a weight was being lifted, like he could _finally_ breathe on his own. But at the same time, now he _really_ had nothing he could do, the diamond asshole unconscious and leaving him with no one to talk to, not that he was the best of company to begin with…

For a while he remained like that, completely motionless, unable to see anything or speak or hell, even get a glass of water. His throat still burned, and he'd noticed earlier that Sabo's voice was raspy and coarse, and he knew he had to see a doctor but fuck, _he_ didn't care what happened to the bastard, so he wasn't about to say anything.

Boredom became almost like torture and he sighed—

He… sighed. _Really_ sighed. He could feel his lungs expelling the air, and his chest rising and falling with his breath, and for a while his mind went blank. Earlier… earlier Ace hadn't even been able to blink. To breathe. _Nothing_. Sabo's control was too strong and he couldn't fight it. He thought it was just part of their situation, of being absorbed, but…

Pulling his mouth taut—and it actually _worked_ and _listened_ and it was _brilliant_—he focused on his hand, on the muscles in it, a far more difficult challenge. At first nothing happened. It didn't respond and he was left wondering if that was yet another limitation to being a forced guest in someone else's body, but then as he tried, _really_ tried, he felt his middle finger twitch, a rise of excitement bubbling within him. Next was his index finger, then the rest, and soon he was gripping the sheets beneath his resting form with all of that body's strength and _he could do this_.

With his heart beating rapidly in his chest, a grin slowly splitting his face, he opened his eyes.

There _was_ something he could do, after all.

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><p><strong>So there you are. Chapter 1. Hope it didn't disappoint! God, this was a monster to make-not because it was long or anything but because I had to try to keep on track and kept getting distracted and trying to go different ways with it... OTL. But as you may have guessed, Sabo and Ace are the main characters. At first it'll focus on them, and then the other two'll come in. I'm thinking chapter 2 will be split between Sabo and Ace's perspectives... We shall see.<strong>

**To my lovelies~**

**Keirra: Hopefully it lives up to your expectations XD I'm gonna spend the next little bit trying to build up the world and characters to hopefully bring it to life a little more. Let's hope I can manage XD**

**Alyss Penedo: It's sort of similar to a devil fruit ability I suppose, but it's inherited and something you're born with XD I'll explain more on the talents in future chapters, and hopefully it'll make more sense.**

**psychedelicLights: Lol that's why it's a prologue, it's not really meant to give much plot XD It was sort of just a little introduction. Actually if you look at the prologue, it mentioned Sabo's tattoo was originally a diamond, so there was no guessing there XD Luffy's clubs, the rest are correct, and yes they're all kings. Hey, comment on whatever you want, I love reading what you guys think!**

**Nugni: Glad it caught your interest XD**

**So thank you for the reviews guys! I honestly didn't expect to get any on such a short prologue... But anyway, I'd really appreciate it if you guys told me what you think so far. I want to build this up to be a fun story for me to write as well as you to read, so I'd love to hear your thoughts!**

**Anyway's, I've rambled enough!**

**Adieu~**


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